


Of Dictionaries and Empty Wrists

by currysaws



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fluff, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, mute character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-08 19:57:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18630235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/currysaws/pseuds/currysaws
Summary: Everyone has the first words their soulmates said to them written on their wrist. Everyone but Ten.





	Of Dictionaries and Empty Wrists

Soulmates. The idea that the life of one person would not be complete without the presence of another. Two halves of a whole. The reason that people were placed in this planet in the first place. To find someone who would share a life with, physically and emotionally. To love another whole heartedly, with a passion and fire that consumes every single waking thought. To be loyal and devoted to another, giving all life to them.

To some their halves were found in the arms of a lover, sweet kisses and embraces that would carry them forward. Others found their halves in a form of a best friend, always ready for the next great adventure together. Some found that their families would provide them the greatest love imaginable, a caring and nurturing love. Others realized that their halves weren’t even halves. No. they were thirds, or fourths, or even fifths for few rare people.

Regardless of who their soulmates were, every single being on this planet had words scripted on their wrist. The first thing their soulmates would ever speak to them. They range from common phrases such as ‘Coffee, please’ to the most bizarre words like ‘Step away from the banana’. Few were lucky enough to have the name of their soulmates on their wrist, introductions that would undoubtedly change the lives of both parties.

But Ten’s wrist had none of these things. No. His wrist was painfully bare. Not a single sentence, phrase, word, or letter graced his dainty, smooth wrist.

For years, those words, or the lack of those words, bothered him. To him, they were a taunt. It was a reminder. A reminder that he was a failure. A pathetic excuse of a human being. A faulty product. Doomed to live life without a soulmate.

His mother, however, never failed to remind his that she was none of these things. “It doesn’t matter if you have a soulmate or not. Having a soulmate shouldn’t be the goal for living. You’re so much more than that,” she would always say whenever Ten stared longingly at his bare wrist.

His mother’s words helped. A little. He decided that those empty wrists shouldn’t prevent his from finding happiness. Still, he wished that he could have that blank ink scrawled across his wrist. Words like his parents have, the first words they said to each other proudly adorned their wrists.

As time went on Ten learned that wearing brightly colored bracelets would make his blend in more. Make his avoid any questioning, or worse, pitying glances. No. It was better if he hid his wrist.

“What’s written on your wrist?” his friends would always ask.

Ten never replied with words. He just gave one of his most beautiful secretive smiles, giving an air of mystery around him.

But he knew his façade wouldn’t last forever. One day, they would realize that his soulmate doesn’t exist. They would find out that there weren’t any words on his wrist. He was abnormal. And it hurt. Because a seed of jealousy had been planted inside of him. Growing each time someone close to him found their soulmate.

It was on a chilly Thursday night when he realized that he wasn’t as strange as he thought he was.

He was pulling an all-nighter at the library, the consequence of his procrastination. A 2000-word essay is due this week and all he’s written was a 200-word introduction. He needed a break. And coffee. And maybe another book. Definitely another book.

And that’s exactly what he decided to do. He left his seat and ventured into the dark, musty, corners of the library, in search for another source for his essay. And as an excuse to stretch his rusty limbs.

Somehow, he found himself in the dictionary section of the library. Combing through the thick, yellowing pages of the dictionaries, he suddenly sensed a sudden movement. And quiet rustling. A shadow stretched out before his eyes. A soft tap on his shoulder.

He violently shrieked and leaped out of his stance, ready to attack the intruder. Hands, flying about to punch his. A heavy thud landed on his toes. A dictionary laid across his toes.

His companion, it seemed, was quite as shocked as he was. His eyes widened in shock. Brown hair flying everywhere. Long skinny limbs toppling backwards. It was those hands, he realized, that had let go of the gigantic book currently on his foot.

“You idiot and your stupid, skinny hands. That book was fucking heavy, you bastard. I think you broke my toes!” Ten screamed.

The boy’s face showed fear throughout his rant. Fearing for his life, Ten looked as if he could strangle the boy with his bare hands. But as Ten went on, the boy’s face began to shift. His eyes widened and his lips began curling into a smile that threatened to split his face wide open, revealing the sweetest and deepest dimples. He started to flap his hands around, bobbing slightly on the balls of his feet.

“What is wrong with you? What are you trying to say?” Ten interrogated him.

He pointed to Ten's hands, a questioning look on his face. It finally dawned on Ten that the boy was asking his permission to hold Ten’s hand. Ten gave him his hand and the boy pulled it towards his own wrist. He led Ten’s hand to his sleeve, pulling it away. Written in neat block letters were the words _‘You idiot and your stupid, skinny hands.That book was fucking heavy, you bastard. I think you broke my toes'_.

“Those were the words I just said to you. I’m your soulmate? No, it can’t be, I have no words on my wrist,” Ten said as he showed his bare wrist, as if evidence, to the boy.

The boy stared at his expectantly, as if it was the most logical thing in the world. It was at that moment that realization hit Ten like a truck. The reason why he had no words on his wrist? The same reason why the boy hadn’t uttered a single word to him.

“You’re mute. That’s why my wrist is blank. Because you can’t talk. Oh shit, sorry was that offensive?” he said, panicking.

But the boy just shook his head, smile never leaving his handsome face. He looked questioningly at Ten’s free hand. Understanding, Ten gave him his hand. The boy took Ten’s hands, pulling it close to his face and placed a soft kiss on his hands.

Ten smiled sweetly at him, and he pulled his towards him. He wrapped his long, dangling arms around his. Suddenly a thought occurred to him.

“Wait, what’s your name?” Ten questioned. The boy tugged Ten's hand, asking Ten to follow him. They left the shelves, heading towards his table, hands still intertwined.

Once they reached his cluttered table, he started rapidly scrawling on a piece of scrap paper. He handed him the paper. _Jaehyun_ , it read. _My name is Jung Jaehyun_.

“Well Jung Jaehyun, I’m Ten and I believe that we’ll be spending lots of time together,” he said smiling sweetly. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first fanfic which was inspired by a story I wrote for school a few years back. I hope you enjoyed it. Please leave your thoughts, they're much appreciated!


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